


Hot (Like Pamela Anderson)

by nightmareyes



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Brave Eddie Kaspbrak, Eddie Kaspbrak Lives, Falling In Love, Fluff, Gay Eddie Kaspbrak, Kissing, Love Confessions, M/M, Slow Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-21
Updated: 2019-11-21
Packaged: 2021-02-25 23:15:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,294
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21513640
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nightmareyes/pseuds/nightmareyes
Summary: “What does the future look like in your eyes, then?” Richie asked.“That’s what I’ve been trying to say—I don’t know,” Eddie sighed, feeling exposed. “I guess… I’m kind of worried that I won’t be brave enough. You know, to come back here and fight It again?” Eddie was worried when Richie didn’t respond, so he quickly added, “It’s stupid.”“It’s not,” Richie said after a moment. “I think we’re all kind of worried about that. That’s why we had to write the letters – to remind the future versions of ourselves that we’re brave as fuck.”--In the days following their victory over Pennywise, the Losers create a time capsule with memorabilia from the past few weeks – complete with letters to their future selves – so that they never forget the summer that they had together. Then, twenty-seven years later, Richie and Eddie reflect on their current lives versus what they’d imagined for themselves as teenagers.
Relationships: Eddie Kaspbrak & Richie Tozier, Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier
Comments: 14
Kudos: 226





	Hot (Like Pamela Anderson)

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys!! Thanks for checking out my fic!
> 
> If you’ve been living under a rock for the past few days (or in the sewers), you may have missed the fact that It Chapter Two was released digitally on Tuesday! With it came a bunch of behind-the-scenes fun stuff, as well as [some letters](https://eddiesbootyshorts.tumblr.com/post/189211797238/losers-letters-to-their-adult-selves) that the cast had written in character to their future selves. This fic is based on Eddie’s letter to himself.
> 
> I saw that some people were trying to use the part of his letter about marrying a hot actress to try and “prove” that he was actually straight, and I thought it was a really interesting dynamic to write about (and vehemently reject). Seriously, guys, these extras came out two days ago, and I spent pretty much all of yesterday binge-writing (is that a thing?) and editing this because I was so inspired. I really hope you guys like it!

**1989:**

Eddie wasn’t a writer.

He wasn’t one for journaling or _getting in touch with his innermost feelings_ , or any goopy shit like that. It was embarrassing – feelings were so personal, but writing them down on paper made them public for anybody in the world to see.

When Eddie was in third grade, his teacher assigned his class a journaling assignment every week. She promised not to read what they’d written in order to let them be as frank and truthful as possible, and Eddie had fallen for it. He’d written about nearly every strange and potentially embarrassing thought that had occurred to him, complete with semi-explicit _third grade boy language_ – from confessing that he’d accidentally ripped his church pants by playing outside while still wearing them to admitting that once, when he was home alone, he’d put on a pair of his mother’s high heels and walked around the house with them on. Even though they had been several sizes too big, he decided that he liked the way that they’d looked.

Eddie’s teacher had stayed true to her word and never invaded his privacy – but Eddie’s mom, who had snooped through his backpack and dug through all of his assignments, had read every single word.

He’d gotten punished for the cursing, for ruining his church clothes, and _especially_ for that last thing. He didn’t think he would ever forget the look in his mother’s eyes as she’d bawled at him, pleading _Eddie-bear, that’s just so strange. Why would you ever do something like that? Oh good Lord in heaven, please don’t tell me that he’s a – a—_

From that moment on, Eddie decided that he wouldn’t write anything down unless he was fine with other people reading it.

That had made this letter _to his future self_ all the more daunting. Bill had suggested it after Bev had told them that they would go up against _It_ in another twenty-seven years – and when Bill had an idea, Eddie knew that eventually the rest of the Losers would go along with it. Still, he couldn’t help but think that it was a stupid thing to do. Writing a letter to your future self meant opening up about your deepest thoughts, feelings, and desires. What was more terrifying than being vulnerable like that?

He was still contemplating it as he sat on the floor of the Losers’ clubhouse all alone, waiting for everybody else to arrive. They were all supposed to meet in about a half hour and bring a memento that had reminded them of this summer, as well as the aforementioned letter to their future selves.

Eddie had put a lot of thought into his memento; it was a red marker. In fact, it was the exact red marker that he had used to change the graffiti on his cast from the word _LOSER_ to _LOVER._ It felt symbolic to him. After spending a few weeks that summer forcibly separated from his friends, he realized that the seven of them were only losers when they were alone. When they were all together, they became _lovers_ – of each other, of themselves (for once), and of their lives as a unit. It reminded Eddie of the fact that, as long as he was with his friends, he would never be alone.

Unfortunately, he had put equally as much thought into his letter and had come up blank. What the fuck was he supposed to put in something like that? _Dear Future-Eddie, hope you’re not lame as fuck! Hope you get out of this shitty town! Hope you stay friends with all of your middle-school buddies forever,_ and maybe, hesitantly, _hope that you find a boy who likes you someday._

Eddie was kind of hoping that last part would fade with time, though.

He was staring at his blank piece of paper when he heard the hatch to the clubhouse swing open loudly. Down the ladder emerged _Richie Tozier,_ the one person who Eddie thought couldn’t help him at all with his predicament.

Richie had somehow looked surprised to see Eddie. “Hey, Eds. Thought I was going to be the first person here.”

“That’s not my name,” Eddie muttered. He tried to look as though he was deeply engrossed in what he was writing.

Richie gave Eddie a quick once-over and plopped down next to him gracelessly. “What are you working on? Is that you’re letter to Eds of the future?”

“ _Eddie,_ ” he corrected. “Not Eds. I think that if anything stays the same when we’re grown-ups, it’ll be that I’ll always hate that fucking name. Plus, it’s none of your business what I’m writing anyway,” Eddie said, hugging the paper to his chest defensively.

“Well, I’ll have you know that _my_ letter is completely finished,” Richie bragged, patting his backpack triumphantly. Eddie felt somewhat annoyed – if _Richie_ were able to finish his letter, surely Eddie shouldn’t be having nearly this much trouble.

“What’d you write about?”

“You know, just how cool that I’m gonna be when I grow up. How I’m going to have a perfect job and a fucking awesome life. Not to mention a never-ending stream of chicks lining up at my door, all of them just as hot as _those girls_ ,” Richie said, gesturing to the wall opposite them. There, the Losers had hung a few magazine photos of actresses and supermodels like Brooke Shields, Pamela Anderson, and Faye Grant.

Eddie had pretended more times than he could count to be interested in those pictures.

“Yeah, I’m sure that’ll happen.” Eddie said and rolled his eyes obnoxiously. Lately, Richie had been the type of guy that would talk about girls incessantly, but his interest never seemed to extend past fleeting comments and exaggerated stares.

“It will, Eds,” Richie said, slinging an arm around Eddie. “I’ve seen the future. Everybody wants a piece of me, but I’ve only got eyes for your mom.”

Eddie pushed Richie’s arm away in disgust. “Wow, Richie. Fuck off.”

Richie only laughed, seeming undeterred. “What are you going to write about?”

“Like I said, it’s none of your business,” Eddie scowled. He didn’t really want to tell him the truth – that he wasn’t sure exactly _what_ he wanted his life to look like in twenty-seven years. Not to mention, Eddie didn’t think that he would have the courage to write down the things that he knew that he _did_ want.

“Well that’s just not fair,” Richie pouted. “I spilled my guts to you!”

“Yeah, you really dug fucking deep, Rich. Hot girls and tons of money – you’re so creative.”

“Okay, well first of all, you’re going to have all that shit too,” said Richie. Eddie quirked an eyebrow at him, to which Richie continued, “You’ll definitely be a super famous doctor, or heart surgeon or some shit, so you should jot that down.”

“What? Where did that even come from?” Eddie asked, not sure that he ever even mentioned to Richie that he wanted to be a doctor someday. “I’m not jotting that down!”

“You totally should. You’d be fucking great at it – remember how you patched up Haystack?” Richie smiled as though it were a good memory, but Eddie had been pretty scared in the moment. Ben had been openly bleeding in dirty, disgusting places like the middle of the woods and in an alleyway – there were _far_ too many ways that Ben could have gotten seriously sick or injured with a gash like that. But Richie had clearly seen it differently. “You’ll probably be a billionaire by the time you’re thirty. And I know that you’ll make sure to fly all around the country to come and see my shows.”

“Your shows?”

“When I’m a famous comedian,” Richie explained, as though it were obvious.

“You have to be funny to be a comedian,” Eddie deadpanned. Richie must have known that he wasn’t being entirely serious, though, because he responded with a lighthearted laugh.

“Alright Spaghetti,” he said, conceding. “What does the future look like in your eyes, then?”

“That’s what I’ve been trying to say—I don’t know,” It was ridiculous how exposing that admission had made him feel. Eddie figured that he may as well tell the entire truth. “I guess… I’m kind of worried that I won’t be brave enough. You know, to come back here and fight _It_ again?” Eddie was worried when Richie didn’t respond immediately, so he quickly added, “It’s stupid.”

“It’s not,” Richie said after a moment. “I think we’re all kind of worried about that. That’s why we had to write the letters – to remind the future versions of ourselves that we’re brave as fuck.”

“I guess,” Eddie mumbled.

He didn’t think that he would have a chance in hell of convincing his older-self that he was brave, because he certainly didn’t _feel_ like he was. When he thought of the word _brave_ , Bill popped into his mind, giving the Losers a pep talk outside of Neibolt and convincing them that he wasn’t afraid – not at all – and that they shouldn’t be either. Next was Stanley, who had maybe been more afraid than all of them combined, but who had put aside his fears to stick beside his friends when they needed him the most.

But most of all, Eddie thought of Richie. They had all been in the sewers, face-to-face with Pennywise and almost certain death. That fucking clown had taken Bill, and he was giving all of the other Losers the opportunity to go free. Eddie could still hear the tone of Richie’s voice perfectly in his mind as Richie said _I’m going to have to kill this fucking clown._

Eddie thought that if he hadn’t known better, he may have almost been afraid of Richie. The ferocity in his tone was incredibly unusual for him, and in the moment it had given Eddie goosebumps. He had never been as convinced as he had been in that moment that standing behind Richie was the right thing to do.

Richie had seemed fierce, strong, and the very definition of _brave_. It had given Eddie the courage that he needed to fight – he knew that he would be safe as long as he was there with Richie.

It was hard to believe that was the same boy as the one who was sitting next to him right now, giving Eddie a soft and encouraging smile. “So what kind of shit do you think that brave, grown-up Eds will get up to?”

“I don’t know,” Eddie said finally. “I think – I guess I’d like to get away from my mom.”

“That’s a good fucking start,” said Richie, nodding enthusiastically. When Richie wasn’t making _your mom_ jokes, he was the single biggest proponent of getting Eddie out from within his mother’s suffocating grasp. Eddie never realized before just how thankful he had been for the support.

“I want to stop taking my pills,” he continued. The thought sounded foreign and impossible to his ears, but he thought that maybe he could wish it into existence. “I’m still doing it because my mom totally freaked out when I threatened to stop, but… I don’t want to have to count on them anymore.”

Richie stared back at him with a strange look that Eddie couldn’t fully decipher, and it made him think that maybe things had gotten too personal too quickly. “Never mind. Like I said, this is stupid.”

“No, Eds. It’s not,” Richie said quickly, with the same expression still frozen on his face. “All of those things sound like awesome ideas. Keep going.”

Eddie felt his cheeks warm slightly before continuing, “I guess that I want to remember how… _good_ it was to have friends like you guys. It makes life a lot easier.”

“Even little old me?” Richie said obnoxiously in a southern drawl. “That’s precious.”

“Okay, fuckwad, if I knew that you were just going to tease me I wouldn’t have said anything.”

Richie laughed again, knowing that he shouldn’t be offended by Eddie’s venom. He sounded particularly genuine as he asserted, “Seriously though. _That’s_ the shit you should be writing about.”

For a moment, Eddie felt completely insecure. It was almost disingenuous to write about those sorts of things if Eddie didn’t actually know if he would be able to accomplish them. Perhaps that was why he was having such a difficult time putting pen to paper – he didn’t have the confidence that he would be able to stick with the changes that he’d made to his life over this past summer.

His heart was in his stomach as he asked softly, “But what if none of it actually happens?”

“It _will,”_ Richie murmured, matching his tone. “I know it will.”

Eddie was suddenly struck by their closeness. He couldn’t say for sure why it had made his heart rate speed up… but he had an inkling.

“ _How_ do you know?” Eddie asked, focusing in on the deep, oaky brown undertones in Richie’s eyes.

“Trust me, Eds,” Richie said, sounding strangely tender. “You’re the bravest person I know.”

It was almost humorous, hearing such a ridiculous thing coming from Richie when Eddie had thought the same exact thing of _him_.

As they sat there, their eyes locked together and unmoving, Eddie thought for sure that Richie must have been wrong about him.

If Eddie really were all that brave, he was certain that he would have had the courage to lean in for a kiss.

But it had taken just a few more seconds of the two of them saying nothing for the rest of the Losers to pile in, breaking up whatever could have potentially just happened.

Eddie quickly scribbled down his letter, taking Richie’s advice to include the most intimate parts of what he’d wished for in the future.

_Or maybe not the_ most _intimate parts_ , he thought, remembering how his mother had cried when she’d read his journal. He glanced both at Richie and at the posters hanging up on the wall.

He added one last line to the end of his letter hastily: _Make sure you marry someone hot like Pam Anderson or Faye Grant_.

He hoped that, maybe, by the time he was forty he would be just a bit braver.

***

**2016:**

Eddie was running away.

Not from _It_ – they’d managed to finally kill it yesterday. As improbable as it may have been, all six of them made had it out of the sewers and miles away from Neibolt Street without being too severely injured.

It was a miracle. Eddie _should_ have been overjoyed.

But there was something strange that happened to you when your life was in immediate mortal danger; all of life’s background noise tended to fade away into the distance. Sure, Eddie had understood the circumstances surrounding their final battle against Pennywise well enough – all of the Losers had been forced to forget each other, as well as their lives growing up – but he didn’t think that knowledge had actually sunken in until after he realized that he wasn’t going to die.

When Eddie was getting ready to put his life on the line, he wasn’t feeling particularly concerned with details like _I wasted twenty-seven years of my life because I couldn’t remember any of my friends or the torture that my mother put me through._

Now, though, those details were extremely fucking concerning.

Just an hour earlier, the six of them decided to make one last trip to their old clubhouse before leaving Derry for good. Whether it was to pick up some last minute souvenirs or to experience the nostalgia of their childhood without a murderous clown following them like a particularly wretched shadow, Eddie hadn’t been entirely sure, but he’d been happy to go along with it nevertheless.

That was, until they stumbled across the time capsule that they’d made when they were thirteen.

( _“Jesus,_ these _could have been our fucking tokens. Would have been so much easier,” mused Richie, glancing over his letter and the comic book that he’d put in there._

_“It doesn’t work like that,” said Mike. “They had to be mementos from that time in the summer when we were all apart.”_

_“Well to be fair, Mike,” corrected Ben, “It didn’t actually work either way.”_ )

Eddie had only taken one glance at his letter before he realized that he’d seen enough.

He shoved it in his pocket, made up a stupid excuse for why he had to rush back to the hotel, and, like a coward, fled the scene.

Now he was in his room hastily packing up his things. He suddenly couldn’t bear to be in this town any longer – it was too stark of a reminder of everything that he’d lost.

He’d just finished organizing his pills in their proper containers when he heard a knock at his door.

“Uh… yeah?” he called out, not wanting to sound too confrontational right off the bat just in case it was somebody from housekeeping.

“It’s Richie. Can I come in?”

Eddie wanted so badly to tell him _no, go away_ , but he couldn’t bring himself to say it. The mere thought of having Richie outside of his room had an intense and immediate calming effect that Eddie couldn’t fully explain.

He walked over to the door to unlock it, and then opened it slightly so that he could see Richie through the crack. “What is it?”

“I should be asking you that question,” said Richie. “You’re the one who ran away from the rest of us like you’d just seen a fucking ghost. Are you okay?”

“Yeah, Rich,” Eddie lied, not wanting to get into the particulars of his current crisis. “I’m good.”

“You don’t seem good,” Richie said, and Eddie opened the door a bit further to let him come in. Richie plopped down on the bed and continued, “I can tell because the lines on your forehead are like, hella fucking deep, dude. You look like an old man.”

“Gee, thanks,” said Eddie dryly, sitting down next to him.

“But I mean, I’m an old man too,” Richie amended quickly. “So it kind of works.”

“Yeah.”

“Seriously, man,” Richie said, shaking his head incredulously. “We just beat a fucking billion year old demonic entity. You shouldn’t look like somebody just shit in your cereal.”

“You’re right,” Eddie muttered, not wanting to sound ungrateful. The whole thing was fucking surreal to him, which made it even worse that he felt so miserable. “I _am_ happy – at least mostly. I can’t believe we all made it out alive.”

“It was thanks to you,” Richie said, his voice suddenly sounding very serious.

Technically, Richie was kind of right. He was referring to the fact that, before they had finally killed Pennywise for good, _It_ had trapped Richie in the deadlights.

Eddie didn’t think that he’d ever been so terrified in his entire life. Seeing Richie floating lifelessly at the hands of Pennywise and not knowing if he was going to be okay or if he was going to die a terrible death had been nearly too much for Eddie to handle.

In that context, what he did was the only logical move that he could have made – he charged at _It_ and stabbed it with a piece of debris that Bev had given him ( _it kills monsters if you believe it does_ ). _It_ dropped Richie from its clutches, but it hadn’t been enough to wake Richie up.

Eddie remembered what it had taken for them to wake Beverly when it had happened to her – what Ben had to do.

He had no time to feel uncomfortable or hesitant. Richie’s life was on the line; Eddie could save his budding sexuality crisis for later.

With as much as Eddie had anticipated kissing Richie throughout the years, the kiss that Eddie had given him to wake him from the deadlights hadn’t been particularly pleasant. For one, they were both covered in dirt, blood, and gray water. More importantly, though, Richie was still unconscious and couldn’t kiss him back.

After a minute, Richie had woken up, gasping for air. Eddie was still holding him tightly in his arms when Richie shoved him away violently.

Eddie was almost worried that Richie was disgusted with him and was trying to reject him with as much finality as possible before he saw one of Pennywise’s talons stab at the air where Eddie had just been kneeling.

_The deadlights,_ Richie had gasped, looking as though he was trying to hold back tears. _I saw it. He was going to kill you._

“It was thanks to you, too,” Eddie said quietly.

“I guess Sleeping Beauty and Prince Charming both saved each other in the end,” Richie smirked. “So what’s the problem then? Was it the letter?”

“Why do you say that?” Eddie asked, hoping that he hadn’t been too terribly transparent.

“Because you seemed fine until we came across that fucking time capsule.”

“Yeah, okay? You know what? It _is_ because of the fucking letter,” Eddie relented, unable to contain his frustration any longer. He pulled the letter out of his pocket and pushed it towards Richie a bit too aggressively. “Look at it. I’m reading this shit and it’s like – it says shit like, _don’t be afraid to tell mom how you feel about her_ and _throw your pills away_ and _stop being so worried about germs._ Like, how much fucking lower could I have set the bar for myself? And I still couldn’t do it. I couldn’t do _any_ of it.”

“Eds, it’s not your fault,” Richie argued, looking up from the paper. “We all forgot about that summer. You would have been able to do everything on this fucking letter if you’d remembered.”

“How do you know?” Eddie asked exasperatedly. “You were there when I wrote it – you said that I was brave, but I’m _not_. I look at my life, and like… _fuck_ , everything that I’ve done – every decision that I’ve made has been so fucking cowardly. I’ve got a boring office job, and I’m — I’m basically a fucking drug addict with all of the pills that I’ve got.” He thought that all of that was more than enough to be ashamed of, but he hadn’t even mentioned his biggest digression of all, “and fuck, _Myra_ …”

“Your wife?” Richie asked weakly, glancing again at Eddie’s letter. “Well, I guess she’s not exactly Pam Anderson or Faye Grant.”

“Richie…” Eddie whispered, hoping desperately that for once, Richie could just _get it_ somehow – could know what Eddie was thinking without him having to say it.

“Come on,” Richie encouraged. “You’re being too hard on yourself. Sure you have an office job, but you’re making a great living. And it’s not too late to get off of those pills.”

“ _Rich._ ”

“Plus, it doesn’t matter if your wife is hot,” Richie said, scratching his cheek uncomfortably. “As long as you, uh, love her and all that shit. That’s what really matters.”

That was the problem, Eddie supposed. Even when he was a kid writing that stupid fucking letter, he hadn’t wanted some beautiful woman like Pam or Faye. He _wanted_ to want them, so badly that it’d hurt. He’d watch movies with the rest of the Losers and see their eyes bug out of their skulls as they’d gawk at the pretty girls on the screen.

Eddie remembered trying to do the same thing, trying to tell everybody how much that he’d liked those women, but the words had felt stale in his mouth. It was like he was reading a script that had been written for somebody else.

He wasn’t mourning some potential future where he’d gotten to marry a hot actress.

As he gazed back at Richie, who seemed to be exerting his best effort to try and make Eddie feel better about his disastrous life, Eddie thought that he may have instead been mourning a future that he could have had with someone else.

“I don’t love her,” Eddie admitted, feeling almost lightheaded as the words left his mouth. There it was: his confession. “I never loved her. That’s the worst part.”

“Oh.” Richie sounded surprised, like he hadn’t been expecting Eddie to admit such a thing. “Well I guess… marriage isn’t forever? You could always get a divorce.”

“Richie, I regret so much of my life. God – I regret damn near every choice that I’ve made since I left Derry,” Eddie asserted, trying not to let his voice shake. “But I think the thing that I regret most is – is not being honest with myself. Back then _and_ right now.”

There was a meaningful silence then, in which neither of them had dared to speak. Eddie had been intentionally vague, hoping to let Richie speculate and wonder what he could have possibly meant.

Richie finally said, “It’s never too late to start.”

“Isn’t it?” Eddie pressed.

“You kissed me,” said Richie suddenly. He looked frazzled, like he hadn’t meant to say anything at all, but the words had come out involuntarily. “When we were – uh, when I was in the deadlights. I remember now. You had to kiss me so that I would wake up.”

Eddie nodded, feeling his pulse start to race.

“Was that… just a chivalrous act of bravery?” Richie asked insecurely, refusing to meet Eddie’s eyes. “You know, like, _ew, gotta give this hairy bastard a quick peck on the lips so he doesn’t meet his demise. Can’t wait to brush my teeth afterwards?_ ”

Just like that, the pressure of admittance had been passed back to Eddie. It was a battle of avoidance – of who would blink first. Eddie wasn’t sure if they had the same end goal in mind, but he thought that he was so sick and tired of denying himself.

It had been twenty-seven years of pretending to be somebody that he wasn’t. Eddie thought that it was finally time to blink.

“No,” he conceded, feeling his hands trembling and speaking painfully slowly. “I’ve thought about it before, I guess.”

“You have?” Richie asked – hopefully, maybe.

“Haven’t you?”

Richie broke out into a grin – but it was more than that. More than anything, he looked _relieved._ “Eddie, you have no fucking clue.”

“I want to be brave, Richie,” Eddie stressed. “I don’t think I have been so far in my life, but I _want_ to be. And not in the clown-fighting, world-saving way but,” he took in a breath. “I think I want to be the kind of guy who goes after what he wants without being paralyzed by the fear of what comes next.”

Richie was staring at him intently as though he were unable to look away. Even in the shitty hotel lighting, his eyes looked almost golden. “That sounds like a fucking incredible plan.”

For another few seconds, they sat together in a giddy silence. Eddie thought that it had almost felt like they _were_ still teenagers and one of them had just checked _yes_ on a piece of notebook paper that had said _do you like me-like me?_

It was a confession that, for both of them, had been years – _decades_ , even – in the making. Eddie thought that there was no shame at all in taking a moment to process what they had just uncovered.

That moment, as it seemed, lasted approximately fifteen seconds – which was how long it had taken them both to snap out of whatever haze that they’d found themselves in and reach for the other in desperation.

Their lips had fallen together clumsily at first, slightly misaligned in their haste, further reminding Eddie of what it may have been like to kiss Richie when they were kids. Eddie had caught the brief taste of cigarettes on Richie’s lips – _was he still a smoker, or had he just been doing it for nostalgia’s sake? –_ before they’d readjusted and fit themselves together more comfortably.

Suddenly, it became glaringly obvious that they weren’t teenagers anymore.

The kiss started soft at first, _hesitant_ , even. Neither one of them had felt particularly confident that their feelings were returned at all – not until moments ago. Eddie suddenly grabbed onto him, tangling his fingers into Richie’s hair to pull him closer.

It felt electric – Eddie couldn’t believe that he’d spent his entire life kissing people that he had barely even liked, when kissing Richie in comparison had felt like _heaven_. It was as though the puzzle pieces that made up his life were finally coming together in his mind – like a scientific breakthrough but more significant.

They had only been reunited for a few days, but in that moment Eddie was sure of two things: First, that he’d never loved anybody like this before. Second, he wanted Richie to stay right there, attached to his lips forever.

That second one may have been unrealistic, but Eddie thought that he was going to give it his best shot. In a move that was more awkward than swift, Eddie maneuvered himself so that he was essentially straddling Richie’s lap with both hands cradling Richie’s cheeks in order to kiss him even more deeply.

“Is this okay?” Eddie asked breathlessly, not wanting to pull away.

“Fuck, Eds,” Richie panted, kissing him again. “I don’t think that I can even describe how fucking okay that this is.”

“Good, Rich. That’s really good, because,” Eddie stopped to consider his words, which proved to be extremely difficult when the only thing in his mind was _Richie._ “Because I – I don’t plan to stop.”

Richie pulled away, for just long enough to give Eddie an enormous smile that was equal parts warm, affirming, and hungry. “Neither do I.”

***

_Dear Eddie of the Past,_

_Hey kid, it’s me. Or, well, it’s you, but from the future. Yeah, I know, right? That sounds so weird._

_I got your letter. Honestly, when I read it, it really bummed me out. At first I thought that I was full of regret because I hadn’t been able to accomplish all of the things that I’d set out to when I was your age. But thinking about it now, I think I’ve realized that’s total bullshit._

_I wasn’t upset that I didn’t magically become some brave, valiant white knight in shining armor the moment that I came of age. I was frustrated because I’d spent so much of my life wishing and wanting and waiting, hoping that someday I might be able to conquer my fears. I put it off indefinitely into the future, to the point where the things that I was afraid of weren’t just a part of who I was, but somehow they had actually_ become _who I was._

_I know that it’s hard, but I need you to keep being brave. A time is going to come when you’ll forget all of the memories that are most important to you and the people who you love the more than anything in the world (long story). Eddie, if you listen to one thing that I say in this letter, it’s this: persevere._

_Nobody is going to throw out your pills for you if you don’t. Nobody is going to stand up to your mother if you can’t find the courage._

_Most importantly, nobody is going to stop you if you try and live the life that you been craving for so long._

_Richie is right, you know. You’re courageous as hell. Not just in the way that protects all of your friends and keeps you safe from monsters, but in powerful, significant ways that keep on existing far after you’ve left the sewers._

_You have so much good to contribute to the world. Go out there show them what you’re made of; the only thing stopping you is yourself._

_And never forget: you’re braver than you think._

_~~Lose~~ _ _Love,_

_Eds_

**Author's Note:**

> I can't THANK YOU enough for reading!! Like I said at the beginning, I really hope that you enjoyed it. If you have a moment, I'd love to hear what you thought!
> 
> Also, if you're at all interested, you can follow my IT sideblog [@eddiesbootyshorts](https://eddiesbootyshorts.tumblr.com/) where I post whenever I write a new fic as well as other fun It related content!
> 
> As always, thank you again! :)


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